


the rain like silver in my ears, fat nothing on my plate

by fits_in_frames



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-14
Updated: 2007-06-14
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1549859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dad's not back yet. He said he'd be back by Sunday at seven, and it's past nine, and Sammy is screaming and crying, and Dean doesn't know what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the rain like silver in my ears, fat nothing on my plate

**Author's Note:**

> _one lifetime is long enough_  
>  _is long enough to wait_  
>  _the rain like silver in my ears_  
>  _fat nothing on my plate_  
>  _a bucket full of babylon_  
>  _a belly full of hate_  
>  _go to sleep, my one true love_  
>  _and may your dreams be sweet_  
>  {david gray // nos da cariad}  
> 

Dad's not back yet. He said he'd be back by Sunday at seven, and it's past nine, and Sammy is screaming and crying, and Dean doesn't know what to do. He calls Pastor Jim, but the line is busy, and Sammy is still crying and Dean still doesn't know what to do. He knows that Sam is hungry (he knows because he is too) but there's nothing to eat in the room, and Sam doesn't understand that. Dean knows has to do _something_ , so he holds his breath and counts to four.

"Shut _up_ , Sammy!" he yells, and Sammy shuts up, bottom lip still trembling pathetically. Dean feels hunger and guilt in the back of his throat, but he swallows before anything can surface. He grabs Sammy's hand and pulls him into the bathroom, wets a washcloth with nearly-scalding, cloudy water and scrubs Sammy's face and behind Sammy's ears until the three-day-old layer of grime comes off. Sam almost starts up again, but Dean gives him a look, so he bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. "Good boy," Dean mumbles, and sits his little brother on the closed toilet so he can clean himself.

He goes back into the main room, finds an old pair of Dad's jeans, shakes them upside down until coins fall to the floor. He gets on his knees and gathers them up and--oh my god, there's a five-dollar bill. Dean closes his eyes and presses it to his lips, and when he opens them again, he sees Sam standing awkwardly in the bathroom doorframe, watching him. He shoves the bill in his pocket and stands up without a word.

He grabs Sammy's hand again, and starts barking instructions in a low whisper as he props the door open with one of Dad's old socks from the outside. "You don't look at anyone, you don't say anything, and for no reason whatsoever do you let go of my hand, you understand me?"

Sam nods and rubs his nose. Dean tightens his grip on Sam's hand.

The convenience store is two blocks away. Dean feels like the mannequins in the glass cases of the closed-for-the-weekend boutiques they pass, like he's a spectacle that normal, middle-class people are supposed to stare at, which, of course, they do. He leads Sam inside the brightly-lit 24-hour mart.

Dean jangles the money in his pocket. He gets a bottle of Coke, then takes Sammy to the candy aisle, tells him he can pick three things. He hopes that won't be too much. Sam carries his stash of Snickers bars all by himself to the front of the store.

Dean is about a head taller than the counter, so the kind old man sitting behind it doesn't have to peer down too far to smile at him as he looks over the candy and the soda. "What's your name, son?"

"Dean," Dean says, and before the old man can ask, he blurts out, "and this is my brother, Sam." He doesn't feel like answering questions right now. He just wants to buy the candy and go back and wait for Dad with something in his belly. He fumbles in his pocket for the fiver.

"How old are you, Dean?"

Dean pauses, bites the inside of his lip. "Eleven," he says, and it sounds incredibly small.

The old man starts ringing up the candy. "Does your mommy know you're out this late, Dean?"

"No," Dean says, fighting the twinge in his chest. "She's dead."

"Oh," says the old man, a little breathlessly. "Your daddy, then?"

Dean hesitates. "He's at work." Well, he thinks, that's sort of true. He slaps the five-dollar bill on the counter.

"Ah," the old man says, and puts the soda and the candy in a paper bag. He pushes the bill back towards Dean and winks sadly. "Keep it."

"Thanks," Dean says, and stuffs it back into his pocket. He takes the bag and hurries out of the store, dragging Sam behind him.

They're a half a block away from the motel when Sam suddenly stops. Dean looks over, and Sam is staring up at the sky.

"Sammy--" Dean whispers fiercely, but Sam only points up. He looks, and sees a streak of white careen across the black. And another. And another. A meteor shower. Dean closes his eyes and, knowing it's foolish, makes a wish, then tugs on Sam's hand. "Let's go," he says, and Sammy follows.

They make it back to the motel room, and Dean gets Sammy settled in bed with his Snickers and a glass of water. It's almost nine-thirty and they have school in the morning, but Dean puts on the TV anyway. Sam munches on his candy and laughs at sitcom jokes he shouldn't understand (he probably doesn't, but there's canned laughter that makes Dean cringe), and Dean gets in to bed next to him and drinks his soda.

During a commercial, Sam elbows him to offer up a half-eaten candy bar. He holds it out with two hands, and Dean half-smiles as he takes a bite. He ruffles the hair on the back of Sam's head and takes another swig of Coke. "Thanks," he says, and licks away the chocolate from the corners of his mouth. Then he bows his head slightly, and says, "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay," Sam says through a mouthful of candy bar, and snakes an arm under Dean's back, around his waist. Dean hooks his arm around Sammy's shoulders, rests his cheek on the top of Sam's head, and considers his wish fulfilled.


End file.
